


Malicious

by Poecilotheria



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Role-swap, dem and 505 swap, flug and bh swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poecilotheria/pseuds/Poecilotheria
Summary: Professor Slys is the mysterious bag-headed boss of the infamous Paper Plane Inc.  Along with his eldritch assistant Dr. Black, his overly amorous assassin-turned-housekeeper 5.0.5., and the mutant chameleon Demencia, he strives to provide villians with only the highest quality weapons and gadgets.  It's just too bad that his employees tend to add onto his already considerable anxiety more than they do actual work.





	1. The Cold Smoulder

                Professor Slys was thankful for both the bag over his head and his fearsome reputation.  Despite the fact that he was an ancient incomprehensible being with apocalyptic powers, he was an absolute bundle of nerves, and the camera didn’t help.  So he stood menacingly in the background as his assistant did the talking, arms behind his back to hide his nervous fidgeting. 

                “Ladies, gentlemen, and abstract horrors, Dr. Black here to demonstrate Paper Plane Inc.’s newest device of destruction!” his assistant announced, producing a ray-gun type weapon from his lab coat.  Dr. Black was a born salesman with an unending enthusiasm for death and destruction.  Very fitting for an eldritch, though as a relatively young being he’d yet to manifest many abilities. 

                “A freeze-ray!  With this modern twist on a classic device, you can freeze and thaw your enemies!  Allow me to demonstrate” the scientist continued, looking off to the side expectantly.  He grit his teeth and clenched his fists.  “5.0.5.!”  A man clad in a sky blue hoodie looked up from the beanbag he was sprawled over.

                “Heya, Blackie.  What’d you need?” the man asked, still groggy.  Dr. Black’s claws ruined yet another pair of gloves.

                “Get over here!  I have a weapon to test!” he hissed.  5.0.5. moved slowly into frame, yawning.  Dr. Black waited until he was in the proper spot before turning back to the camera, regaining his best salesman grin.

                “Observe,” he said, firing the weapon.  He let out an internal sigh of relief as ice formed instantly, encasing 5.0.5. and stopping just short of his head.  The man attempted to move and whimpered when he found that he was totally immobilized.

                “This isn’t very comfortable,” he whined, the creeping cold making him regret cutting the sleeves off of his signature bear hoodie.

                “It isn’t supposed to be, idiot!” Dr. Black snarled, flipping a switch on the freeze-ray to red.  “Now, watch as it effortlessly thaws out our test subject.”  There was a click as he pressed down the trigger, then nothing.  He tried again, and again, before desperately fiddling with the weapon. 

                “You haven’t… you haven’t been cutting c-corners again, have you?” Slys’ stuttering voice caused Dr. Black to wince and turn to face him. 

                “Of course not-“a piece of the freeze-ray choose that moment to come loose and clatter onto the floor.  Slys rubbed his face, paper bag crinkling with the movement. 

                “Cambot, cut!” he called out.  The machine’s recording lights turned off, and it skittered away into Slys’ personal lab.  Like every other invention he personally created, Cambot was for only Slys and his employees to use. 

                “Just a minor malfunction, boss.  I assure you, it won’t take any more than a day to fix,” Dr. Black lied, crossing his fingers behind his back. 

                “A day?!” 5.0.5. squeaked, renewing his struggle for freedom. 

                “Th-the broadcast is today!  We h-have a schedule f-for a reason,” Slys snapped, wringing his hands. 

                “Perfection takes time,” Dr. Black shrugged. 

                “I’m tired of y-your excuses!” Slys growled, holding up a clenched fist.  The eldritch scientist backed away, putting his hands up in a pacifying manner.  Professor Slys was usually relatively non-threatening, but the nervous man was a terrifying force when enraged or overwhelmed.

                “Alright, I’ll repair it right away!”

                “You’d better!” Slys’ eyes glowed malevolently.  The two monsters cut their quarrel short as a cacophony of screeching noises came from the frozen 5.0.5.’s direction.  A giant mutated chameleon had its tongue stuck fast to the ice.

                “I told her not to!” 5.0.5. groaned.  Dr. Black darted over to the mess, grabbing onto the lizard and pulling with his full strength.

                “Demencia!  You stupid lizard!” he grunted, wincing slightly at the hellish noises she was making.  Slys only watched the incredible display of his employee’s incompetency with growing stress building in his already frazzled brain. 

                “I think I’m getting frostbite,” 5.0.5. mumbled, though he could feel his clothing become damp with the first signs of thawing.  Dr. Black shot him a withering glare with his visible eye, the other hidden beneath the opaque glass on the left lens of his glasses.

                “Oh, shut up you simpering little-“Demencia’s tongue came loose, causing the two to crash into the far wall.  Dr. Black had only just managed to push the heavy mutant off of him when a painting knocked askew by the impact fell directly onto his head, smashing his beloved hat like an accordion.  He nobly resisted the urge to weep over the death of his latest hat, and instead focused his bubbling rage at Demencia.

                “I will make you regret that I ever made you!” he snarled.  Demencia gave him a cross-eyed stare, before dragging her tongue up the side of his face.  She gave him the lizard equivalent of a grin before scuttling up the wall and out of reach, leaving Dr. Black’s face coated in a generous layer of sticky saliva. 

                “Disgusting!  Get down here so I can kill you!” he shrieked, impotently shaking his fist as the lizard clambered across the ceiling. 

                “Get me outta here!” 5.0.5. wailed. 

                “You’d better not sleep!  I’ll saw off your horns and gut you with them!”

                “I can’t feel any part of me!”

                “5.0.5.!  Shut up-“

                “ **ENOUGH!** ” Slys roared, hefting the frozen man over his head and hurling him at the doctor.  Dr. Black narrowly dodged the projectile as it slammed into the wall, the ice splintering into pieces.  He felt ice shards pepper his back as he shielded himself.

                “I’m free!” he turned to see 5.0.5. lying face down and covered in crushed ice, holding his hand out with a thumbs-up.  Dr. Black only groaned, and looked towards his boss.  Slys was hunched over slightly, taking slow, deep breaths.  He finally straightened up, and smoothed out his coat. 

                “Sorry about th-that,” he muttered, though he seemed to be more sorry for damaging his own wall than anything.  5.0.5. sat up suddenly, shaking the icy debris off of him.  He stood and ran towards the man, arms outstretched. 

                “Ah, my darling professor!  You are already forgiven!” he gushed.  Slys easily prevented the incoming embrace by using his foot to keep the amorous man at a distance.

                “ _I_ don’t forgive him,” Dr. Black grumbled, low enough for Slys not to hear. 

                “Doctor!  5.0.5. will t-take care of this.  Go complete the ray.  _Properly_ th-this time,” his boss said, the last sentence teeming with unsaid threats. 

                “Of course sir,” he responded, words filled with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows.  The doctor collected the ray and the errant piece before leaving the room to retreat back to his lab.  Demencia waited a moment before skittering after him.

                “You want me to clean this up, huh?  I’ll go get the maid outfit!” 5.0.5. chirped, clapping his hands together in excitement.

                “ **Absolutely not!** ”


	2. Workplace Safety (Or a Lack Thereof)

                Dr. Black sat hunched over his workbench, intensely focused on the disassembled freeze-ray before him.  His current work ethic was entirely fueled by spite towards his boss, though perhaps if he stopped to think for a moment he would realize that fixing the device was exactly what Slys wanted anyway.  A sudden shuffling noise caused him to set his soldering iron aside, and growl with irritation. 

                “I told you it would be a few more hours-“he paused as he caught a flash of green in his peripheral vision.  He started as something brushed by his legs, causing him to topple over backwards in his chair.  Demencia slithered out from under the bench and gave Dr. Black a curious look as he clutched his head. 

                “Are you trying to ruin another hat?!” the doctor groaned.  Demencia tilted her head before depositing a small, saliva coated object next to him.  Dr. Black hesitantly grabbed it, wiping the sticky green spit away from the label.  It was the missing ingredient for the thaw function.

                “You didn’t take this from Slys’ lab, did you?”  Demencia only gave him the most innocent expression a mutated chameleon could manage, and he sighed.

                “Fine.  I won’t gut you,” he said, pushing himself out of his prone state and standing.  Demencia rattled her neon red spines in happiness.  Dr. Black righted his chair and sat back down, rolling it back into position and setting the bottle in his workspace.  He pushed the freeze-ray aside and snatched an Erlenmeyer flask filled with a milky red liquid.  He unscrewed the bottle cap and pulled a minute amount of the purple liquid inside up into the dropper.  He slid the dropper slightly past the lip of the flask, taking care to not squeeze the bulb of the dropper.

                “Be absolutely silent!  If the amount is even one milliliter off…” he warned.  Demencia stretched her body up so that she was at eye-level to the flask, watching intently.  A tiny droplet pushed out from the dropper, dangling precariously. 

                “Blackiiiie!” the shout startled Dr. Black, causing him to clench his hand around the dropper.  The solution promptly caught on fire, shattering the flask and splattering his workbench and his arms.  He shrieked and tore off his coat, dashing for the safety shower as Demencia scrambled up the wall behind the bench.  She made a few repulsive noises before coughing out a generous blob of sticky mucus that effectively extinguished the fire.  5.0.5. watched from the doorway in confusion, holding a tray of food.

                “Must you always be screaming?!” the doctor growled, dripping water across the floor.  His sleeves were burnt off to the elbows and several nasty-looking burns were scattered across the exposed skin.  His gloves hung in tatters from his hands.

                “Sorry” the man responded sheepishly.  He held out the tray he was holding.  “I brought you some food!”  Dr. Black stalked over and snatched the tray, very nearly knocking over the cup of tea resting on it.  He turned to set it on his workbench before making a 180 and placing it upon a different table as he saw the mucus covering it.

                “That is pretty cool though,” 5.0.5. offered, gesturing at Dr. Black’s arms.  The doctor squinted at him.

                “What is?”

                “Your burns are already healing!  It’s fun to watch,” he chirped.  Dr. Black narrowed his eye, folding his arms. 

                “I am not your entertainment!  You caused this!” he hissed, grabbing the mug and taking a small sip of the tea.  He seemed to relax slightly, and took another drink.  5.0.5. beamed.

                “I made your favorite!” he said cheerfully.  Dr. Black rolled his eye, though he continued drinking.

                “Hm,” he muttered, voice reverberating into the mug.  “#2 Scientist” was printed on it in stark black letters.  Demencia skittered over and snagged one half of the sandwich on the tray with her long tongue, swallowing it before anyone could react.  She then gave the two men a content look, tongue lolling out from the side of her mouth.

                “That wasn’t for you!” 5.0.5. scolded, hands on his hips.  Demencia only rattled her spines and made screeching sounds that must have been her version of laughing.  Dr. Black focused on his tea, and also on how he could go about cleaning Demencia’s slobber from his workbench.  None of them noticed their boss approaching the doorway.

                “H-have any of you seen a small bottle of-“Slys paused and looked at the scene before him.  Demencia was taunting an exasperated 5.0.5., and Dr. Black was staring forlornly at a goo-covered workbench.  Said doctor was also soaking wet and missing his coat and a good portion of his sleeves.  Slys resisted the considerable urge to just turn around and leave.

                “Did something happen, d-doctor?” he asked, giving Dr. Black a pointed look.  The man bristled, and pointed at 5.0.5.   

                “He barged into my lab and caused a fire!” Dr. Black snarled. 

                “Did you?” Slys asked 5.0.5.  The latter shook his head vigorously. 

                “I only startled him!  He spilled the stuff!” he said, pointing right back at the angry doctor. 

                “I wouldn’t have spilled anything if you didn’t lumber into my lab like the great oaf you are!” he shot back, clenching the hand that wasn’t pointing.

                “I was only bringing you food you jerk!”

                “Skreeeeeee!” Demencia cheerfully joined in. 

                “I don’t even need to eat, idiot!”

                “But you like to!”

                “SKREEEEEEEE-!”

                “ **SILENCE!** ” Slys’ voice sounded like a chorus of demons.  Inky black mist swirled around him as his eyes shined a vibrant red.  There was a long silence as the three stared at their boss in terror, before Slys coughed awkwardly, his eyes fading back to their usual faint glow. 

                “A-anyway… Dr. Black a-and 5.0.5., you two c-clean this place up.”  The two nodded, still wide-eyed.  Slys looked down to Demencia. 

                “Demencia… u-um… try not to s-spit on anything else,” he finished.  The chameleon nodded quickly, sucking up a strand of drool that was in danger of falling to the floor.  Slys seemed to search for something else to say before abruptly turning towards the door. 

“I’ll be in m-my lab,” he muttered, walking off down the hall.  Dr. Black glared after him for a while before something nudged his side.  He looked down to see Demencia holding a bucket in her mouth and sighed. 

“Let’s get started then,” he grumbled, utterly resigned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There won't be any real over-arching plot to this, it'll just be little snippets of goings on in this universe.


	3. Attempted Inter-Dimensional Suicide

            In the world of black-market weaponry, Paper Plane Inc. was far and away the top dog.  Their weapons were the most destructive and reliable, and they delivered what was payed for, which was somewhat of a rarity when dealing with villains.  As such, the company was exclusive.  You needed to be deep in the dark underbelly of the criminal world to even gain the contact info, and even when contacted you weren’t guaranteed a response.  A seemingly random handful of the slew of villains who contacted them ever received a response.  This was assumed to reflect on a villain’s evil qualities, with only the most nefarious being allowed to purchase weapons.

            In reality, phone calls gave Professor Slys terrible bouts of anxiety, and he could only do so many before he became a mess of nerves.  And there was absolutely no way Slys would make any phone calls to clients while his voice was trembling.  He tapped his pen, looking over the stacks of paperwork on his desk.  He would have loved to shred the whole mess and banish the pieces to some random nightmarish plane of existence, but the papers held important supply orders for numerous lab chemicals.  Slys was beginning to get the closest thing an existential horror like him could get to a migraine.

 His office was large and spotless, kept that way by a combination of his neurosis and 5.0.5’s frequent cleaning.  The furnishings were curiously constructed with repurposed aircraft parts, many with the paint and symbols still intact.  All save for the chairs, for even Slys’ intense adoration for airplanes did not extend to the cramped seats.  Various meticulous model planes were lined against the far wall, inside large glass cases.  On closer inspection, the planes seemed to be made of real metal and all were in various states of crashing or suffering catastrophic failure, complete with a diorama of the surrounding carnage.  Each had a plaque affixed to the case, with a date, location, flight number and a list of casualties.  Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Slys had an intense obsession with plane _crashes_.

 A sudden thumping sound caused him to jump slightly, followed by whispering that made him narrow his eyes as he identified the source.  He crept out of his seat and over to his office door, turning the handle of the repurposed emergency exit and pushing it open.

“You idiot!  You pulled me out before I could retrieve the part!” Dr. Black whispered angrily, though his gravelly voice made it seem like regular talking.

“You were yelling!  I thought you were in trouble!” 5.0.5 responded.  It appeared as though they were trying not to disturb their boss.

“I’m always yelling-!”

“W-what’s going on here?”  The two froze, and turned to face Slys.  Dr. Black tried to hide the ray-like device he was holding behind the hem of his coat, giving a fake grin.

“Nothing at all, Sir.  I was just going to give you an update on the Inter-Dimensional Transporter,” he said, adopting his best customer service tone.  5.0.5 nodded hurriedly in agreement.  Slys mentally prepared himself for the incompetency he was sure would come.

“A-and?”

“Well, there has been a slight hiccup in the testing process-“

“He lost the power source in a parallel dimension!” 5.0.5 blurted out.  Dr. Black gave him a solid smack to the back of the head before he shrank back slightly under Slys’ increasingly irritated gaze.

“Th-that wouldn’t happen t-to be the plasma core th-that took months to a-acquire” Slys hissed, equal parts stressed and furious.

“Well… yes, it was.  BUT!  I discovered something fascinating in the parallel dimension,” the doctor rambled, hoping to appeal to his boss’ scientific curiosity.  Slys’ angry hunch lessened somewhat.

“Like w-what?” he urged.

“Well, I found an alternate version of you.  He was a whimpering wreck with an irritating speech impediment and didn’t even make up for it with arcane powers like you do!”

“E-excuse me?”

“Er, I mean he was a pale imitation of your sheer malevolence, sir.  The unnecessary syllables you add simply multiply your evil-“

“Get to the good part!” 5.0.5 interjected.  Dr. Black scowled at him, but complied.

“Well, this imitation called himself…Dr. Floog, was it?  He was utterly petrified of me, started giving excuses as to why some device wasn’t finished yet.”

“Hm…” Slys tapped where his chin was under the bag.

“Then this other presence started approaching, and I could tell it was another Eldritch immediately.  Then I, well, another me, burst into the room.  He radiated evil that was exactly like one of your fits, sir.”

“Don’t c-call them fits, p-please.”

“One of your episodes, then.  It was incredible.”

“He wants to be just like that guy someday,” 5.0.5 chirped. 

“Don’t say it like that; you’re making me sound childish-!” 

Slys loudly cleared his throat.

“Right, OK.  So as I was admiring my potential, he tried to kill me.  Then 5.0.5 yanked me through the portal as it began to close, so I escaped inter-dimensional suicide.  I suppose he was territorial?” Dr. Black finished.  Slys thought deeply for a moment, mulling things over.

“And the missing p-part?”

“Well, I examined the device afterwards and the core was simply gone.  Perhaps it vaporized from the energy output,” Dr. Black nervously offered.  Slys rubbed his arms anxiously, sighing.

“P-perhaps.”

In another dimension, a man examined his newly acquired prize under the harsh fluorescent lights of his lab.  He had a cheerful look under his bag and goggles, a rarity given his general never-ending torment.  The bright blue orb in his palm pulsed with a soft light, casting the glow over his rubber gloves.  The object had been easy enough to snatch from the intruder’s device while his boss had him distracted.  And now the core would provide a quick way to pacify the boss’ anger.  Dimension jumpers were in right now, and would no doubt fetch a high enough price to at least temporarily quell the Eldritch’s usual bubbling rage.

But what was no doubt the most interesting thing to Flug was how the intruder had seemed far more scared of him than Black Hat.  He had looked almost exactly like his horror-show of an employer, aside from wearing a lab-coat and spectacles.  What on earth was his alternate self like if he scared Black Hat?  Was he the boss there?  Flug definitely liked that concept, if only so he could have a chance at some payback…

He would have let out an evil cackle, but he didn’t want Black Hat to come to the lab to mock him for wheezing.  It wasn’t his fault he had asthma.        

     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Flug is an evil mastermind in his own right. He is the right-hand-man of the top villain after all. Also if I had the skill I would totally build plane crash dioramas.

**Author's Note:**

> For once it's not a Kirby fic! I know, I'm just as surprised as you are!


End file.
